The following days got worse and worse with Umbridge as she was relentless with spreading her lies about Voldemort being dead and handing out punishments to all who opposed her. Hermione had sent letters to Bella a bit distraught about what Bella would do when she found out about all the horrible things Umbridge was doing to Hermione and the others. Hermione became more terrified about what Bella would do when no howler came and Bella just sent a calmly worded letter to Hermione and nothing to Umbridge.
Hermione, Ginny, and Ron sat in the common room in front of the fireplace discussing what they should do about her. Harry walked into the common room and sat down next to the group and quietly began to listen.
"She's an awful woman," said Hermione in a quiet but passionate voice. "Awful. You know, I was just saying to Ron when you came in . . . we've got to do something about her."
"I suggested poison," said Ginny grimly.
"No . . . I mean, something about what a dreadful teacher she is, and how we're not going to learn any defense from her at all," said Hermione.
"Well, what can we do about that?" said Ron, yawning. " 'S too late, isn't it? She got the job, she's here to stay, Fudge'll make sure of that."
"Well," started Hermione. "You know, I was thinking today. . . ." She shot a slightly nervous look at Harry and then plunged on, "I was thinking that — maybe the time's come when we should just — just do it ourselves."
"Do what ourselves?" said Harry suspiciously, still floating his hand in the essence of murtlap tentacles.
"Well — learn Defense Against the Dark Arts ourselves," said Hermione.
"Come off it," groaned Ron. "You want us to do extra work? D'you realize Harry and I are behind on homework again and it's only the second week?"
"But this is much more important than homework!" said Hermione.
Harry, Ron, and Ginny goggled at her. "I didn't think there was anything in the universe more important than homework," said Ron.
"Don't be silly, of course there is!" said Hermione, her face was suddenly alight with the kind of fervor that S.P.E.W. usually inspired by her. "It's about preparing ourselves, like Harry said in Umbridge's first lesson, for what's waiting out there. It's about making sure we really can defend ourselves. If we don't learn anything for a whole year —"
"We can't do much by ourselves," said Ron in a defeated voice. "I mean, all right, we can go and look jinxes up in the library and try and practice them, I suppose —"
"No, I agree, we've gone past the stage where we can just learn things out of books," said Hermione. "We need a teacher, a proper one, who can show us how to use the spells and correct us if we're going wrong."
"If you're talking about Mulligan . . ." Harry began.
"No, no, I'm not talking about Mulligan," said Hermione. "She's too busy with the Order and anyway, the most we could see her is during Hogsmeade weekends and that's not nearly often enough."
Ginny shot her a mischievous look.
"Who, then?" said Harry, frowning at her.
Hermione heaved a very deep sigh. "Isn't it obvious?" she said. "I'm talking about you, Harry."
"What do you mean me!? I can't teach DADA!" said Harry, shock evident on his face.
"But you can Harry! Think about it: first year you defeated Voldemort. Second year you killed a basilisk and defeated Him again. Third year you fought off hundreds of dementors and just last year you fought off Voldemort again!"
"I had help for all of those things I couldn't have done it without help and luck!"
"That's why we are going to help you!" said Hermione with a smile on her face gesturing to herself, Ron, and Ginny.
"C-Can I think about this?"
"You got it mate," said Ron.
Hermione watched Harry walk up the stairs to his dorm with his hand trailing through his hair.
'Did I do the right thing? Should I not have brought up the subject?' Hermione began to pace as she thought, but shrugged off her thoughts after realizing how late it was she began walking up to her dorm room.
Hermione made no mention of Harry giving Defense Against the Dark Arts lessons for two whole weeks after her original suggestion. Ron had had four more Quidditch practices and not been shouted at during the last two; and all three of them had managed to vanish their mice in Transfiguration (Hermione had actually progressed to vanishing kittens), before the subject was broached again, on a wild, blustery evening at the end of September, when the four of them were sitting in the library, looking up potion ingredients for Snape. Well only three of them were as Ginny sat keeping them company.
"I was wondering," Hermione said suddenly, "whether you'd thought any more about Defense Against the Dark Arts, Harry."
" 'Course I have," said Harry grumpily. "Can't forget it, can we, with that hag teaching us —"
"I meant the idea Ginny and I had" — Ginny cast her an alarmed, threatening kind of look; she frowned at her — "oh, all right, the idea I had, then — about you teaching us."
Harry did not answer at once. He pretended to be perusing a page of Asiatic Anti-Venoms, because he did not want to say what was in his mind.
"Well," he said slowly, when he could not pretend to find Asiatic anti-venoms interesting much longer, "yeah, I — I've thought about it a bit."
"And?" said Hermione eagerly.
"I dunno," said Harry, playing for time. He looked up at Ron.
"I thought it was a good idea from the start," said Ron, who seemed keener to join in this conversation now that he was sure that Harry was not going to run off again. Harry shifted uncomfortably in his chair.
"You did listen to what I said about a load of it being luck, didn't you?"
"Yes, Harry," said Hermione gently, "but all the same, there's no point pretending that you're not good at Defense Against the Dark Arts, because you are. You were the only person last year who could throw off the Imperius Curse completely, you can produce a Patronus, you can do all sorts of stuff that full-grown wizards can't, Viktor always said —"
Ron looked around at her so fast he appeared to crick his neck; rubbing it, he said, "Yeah? What did Vicky say?"
Hermione rolled her eyes at Ron's antics. "He said Harry knew how to do stuff even he didn't, and he was in his final year at Durmstrang."
Ron was looking at Hermione suspiciously and Ginny looked like she was about to slap Ron.
"You're not still in contact with him, are you?"
"So what if I am?" said Hermione coolly, her face impassive. "I can have a pen pal if I —"
"He didn't only want to be your pen pal," said Ron accusingly.
At this Harry tried to hide a smile and Ginny broke out into loud laughter causing Madam Pince to shush them. Hermione shook her head exasperatedly and, ignoring Ron, who was continuing to watch her, said to Harry, "Well, what do you think? Will you teach us?"
"Just you, Ginny, and Ron, yeah?"
"Well," said Hermione, now feeling anxious again. "Well. . . now, don't run off again, Harry, please. . . . But I really think you ought to teach anyone who wants to learn. I mean, we're talking about defending ourselves against Voldemort — oh, don't be pathetic, Ron— it doesn't seem fair if we don't offer the chance to other people."
Harry considered this for a moment, then said, "Yeah, but I doubt anyone except you two would want to be taught by me. I'm a nutter, remember?"
"Well, I think you might be surprised how many people would be interested in hearing what you've got to say," said Hermione seriously. "Look," she leaned toward him; Ron, who was still watching her with a frown on his face, leaned forward to listen too, "you know the first weekend in October's a Hogsmeade weekend? How would it be if we tell anyone who's interested to meet us in the village and we can talk it over?"
"Why do we have to do it outside school?" said Ron.
"Because," said Hermione, returning to the diagram of the Chinese Chomping Cabbage she was copying, "I don't think Umbridge would be very happy if she found out what we were up to."
Harry sighed, still skeptical of this plan, but nonetheless agreed to Hermione's plan.
The morning of the Hogsmeade visit dawned windy and snowy. After breakfast they queued up in front of Filch, who matched their names to the long list of students who had permission from their parents or guardian to visit the village.
Ron, Ginny, Harry, and Hermione set off at a brisk pace down the wide drive to the gates. They walked between the tall stone pillars topped with winged boars and turned left onto the road into the village, the wind whipping their hair and blowing snow into their eyes. Hermione became lost in her thoughts about where she was going after the meeting.
"Where are we going anyway?" Harry asked. "The Three Broomsticks?"
"Oh — no," said Hermione, coming out of her reverie, "no, it's always packed and really noisy. I've told the others to meet us in the Hog's Head, that other pub, you know the one, it's not on the main road. I think it's a bit . . . you know . . . dodgy . . . but students don't normally go in there, so I don't think we'll be overheard."
They walked down the main street past Zonko's Joke Shop, where they were unsurprised to see Fred, George, and Lee Jordan, past the post office, from which owls issued at regular intervals, and turned up a side street at the top of which stood a small inn. A battered wooden sign hung from a rusty bracket over the door, with a picture upon it of a wild boar's severed head leaking blood onto the white cloth around it. The sign creaked in the wind as they approached. All four of them hesitated outside the door.
"Well, come on," said Hermione slightly nervously.
Hermione led the way inside. It was not at all like the Three Broomsticks, whose large bar gave an impression of gleaming warmth and cleanliness. The Hog's Head bar comprised one small, dingy, and very dirty room that smelled strongly of something that might have been goats. The bay windows were so encrusted with grime that very little daylight could permeate the room, which was lit instead with the stubs of candles sitting on rough wooden tables. The floor seemed at first glance to be earthy, though as Hermione stepped onto it he realized that there was stone beneath what seemed to be the accumulated filth of centuries. There was a man at the bar whose whole head was wrapped in dirty gray bandages, though he was still managing to gulp endless glasses of some smoking, fiery substance through a slit over his mouth. Two figures shrouded in hoods sat at a table in one of the windows; Hermione might have thought them dementors if they had not been talking in strong Yorkshire accents; in a shadowy corner beside the fireplace sat a witch with a thick, black veil that fell to her toes. They could just see the tip of her nose because it caused the veil to protrude slightly.
"I don't know about this, Hermione," Harry muttered, as they crossed to the bar. He was looking particularly at the heavily veiled witch. "Has it occurred to you Umbridge might be under that?"
Hermione cast an appraising eye at the veiled figure. "Umbridge is shorter than that woman," she said quietly. "And anyway, even if Umbridge does come in here there's nothing she can do to stop us, Harry, because I've double- and triple-checked the school rules. We're not out-of-bounds; I specifically asked Professor Flitwick whether students were allowed to come in the Hog's Head, and he said yes, but he advised me strongly to bring our own glasses. And I've looked up everything I can think of about study groups and homework groups and they're definitely allowed. I just don't think it's a good idea if we parade what we're doing."
"No," said Harry dryly, "especially as it's not exactly a homework group you're planning, is it?"
The barman sidled toward them out of a back room. He was a grumpy-looking old man with a great deal of long gray hair and beard. He was tall and thin and looked vaguely familiar to Hermione.
"What?" he grunted.
"Three butterbeers, please," said Hermione.
The man reached beneath the counter and pulled up three very dusty, very dirty bottles, which he slammed on the bar.
"Six Sickles," he said.
"I'll get them," said Harry quickly, passing over the silver.
The barman's eyes traveled over Harry, resting for a fraction of a second on his scar. Then he turned away and deposited Harry's money in an ancient wooden till whose drawer slid open automatically to receive it. Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Hermione retreated to the farthest table from the bar and sat down, looking around, while the man in the dirty gray bandages rapped the counter with his knuckles and received another smoking drink from the barman.
"You know what?" Ron murmured, looking over at the bar with enthusiasm. "We could order anything we liked in here, I bet that bloke would sell us anything, he wouldn't care. I've always wanted to try firewhisky —"
"Do you really want Mum to find out?" asked Ginny with her eyebrow raised.
"Oh," said Ron, the smile fading from his face. "No . . ."
"So who did you say is supposed to be meeting us?" Harry asked, wrenching open the rusty top of his butterbeer and taking a swig.
"Just a couple of people," Hermione repeated, checking her watch and then looking anxiously toward the door. "I told them to be here about now and I'm sure they all know where it is — oh look, this might be them now —"
The door of the pub had opened. A thick band of dusty sunlight split the room in two for a moment and then vanished, blocked by the incoming rush of a crowd of people. First came Neville with Dean and Lavender, who were closely followed by Parvati and Padma Patil with Cho and one of her usually giggling girlfriends, then (on her own and looking so dreamy that she might have walked in by accident) Luna Lovegood; then Katie Bell, Alicia Spinnet, and Angelina Johnson, Colin and Dennis Creevey, Ernie Macmillan, Justin FinchFletchley, Hannah Abbott, and a Hufflepuff girl with a long plait down her back whose name Hermione did not know; three Ravenclaw boys she was pretty sure were called Anthony Goldstein, Michael Corner, and Terry Boot; a tall skinny blond boy with an upturned nose whom Harry recognized vaguely as being a member of the Hufflepuff Quidditch team, and bringing up the rear, Fred and George Weasley with their friend Lee Jordan, all three of whom were carrying large paper bags crammed with Zonko's merchandise.
"A couple of people?" said Harry hoarsely to Hermione. "A couple of people?"
"Yes, well, the idea seemed quite popular," said Hermione happily.
"Ron, do you want to pull up some more chairs?"
The barman had frozen in the act of wiping out a glass with a rag so filthy it looked as though it had never been washed. Possibly he had never seen his pub so full.
"Hi," said Fred, reaching the bar first and counting his companions quickly. "Could we have . . . twenty-five butterbeers, please?"
The barman glared at him for a moment, then, throwing down his rag irritably as though he had been interrupted in something very important, he started passing up dusty butterbeers from under the bar.
"Cheers," said Fred, handing them out. "Cough up, everyone, I haven't got enough gold for all of these. . . ."
Harry watched with an unreadable look on his face as the large chattering group took their beers from Fred and rummaged in their robes to find coins.
"What have you been telling people?" he said in a low voice. "What are they expecting?"
"I've told you, they just want to hear what you've got to say," said Hermione soothingly; but Harry continued to look at her so nervously that she added quickly, "You don't have to do anything yet, I'll speak to them first."
"Hi, Harry," said Neville, beaming and taking a seat opposite Harry. Cho had just smiled at him and sat down on Ron's right. Her friend, who had curly reddish-blonde hair, did not smile, but gave Harry a thoroughly mistrustful look that clearly said, given her way, she would not be here at all. In twos and threes the new arrivals settled around Harry, Ron, and Hermione, some looking rather excited, others curious, Luna Lovegood gazing dreamily into space. When everybody had pulled up a chair, the chatter died out. Every eye was upon Harry.
"Hi everyone," said Hermione, her voice steady, but quiet.
The group focused its attention on her instead, though eyes continued to dart back regularly to Harry.
"Well, I hope you know why you're here. I had the idea — that it might be good if people who wanted to study Defense Against the Dark Arts — and I mean, really study it, you know, not the rubbish that Umbridge is doing with us" — (Hermione's voice became suddenly much louder and more confident) — "because nobody could call that Defense Against the Dark Arts" — "Hear, hear," said Anthony Goldstein, and Hermione felt heartened — "well, I thought it would be good if we, well, took matters into our own hands." She paused, looked sideways at Harry, and went on, "And by that I mean learning how to defend ourselves properly, not just theory but the real spells —"
"You want to pass your Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L. too though, I bet?" said Michael Corner.
"Of course I do," said Hermione at once. "But I want more than that, I want to be properly trained in Defense because," She took a great breath and finished, "Because Lord Voldemort's back."
The reaction was immediate and predictable. Cho's friend shrieked and slopped butterbeer down herself, Terry Boot gave a kind of involuntary twitch, Padma Patil shuddered, and Neville gave an odd yelp that he managed to turn into a cough. All of them, however, looked fixedly, even eagerly, at Harry.
"Well . . . that's the plan anyway," said Hermione. "If you want to join us, we need to decide how we're going to —"
"Where's the proof You-Know-Who's back?" said the blond Hufflepuff player in a rather aggressive voice.
"Well, I believe Harry and I know that Harry's not a liar," Hermione began.
"You believe him," said the blond boy, nodding at Harry.
"Who are you?" said Ginny rather rudely.
"Zacharias Smith," said the boy, "and I think we've got the right to know exactly what makes him say You-Know-Who's back."
"Look," said Hermione, intervening swiftly, "that's really not what this meeting was supposed to be about —"
"It's okay, Hermione," said Harry. "What makes me say You-Know-Who's back?" he asked, looking Zacharias straight in the face. "I saw him. But Dumbledore told the whole school what happened last year, and if you didn't believe him, you don't believe me, and I'm not wasting an afternoon trying to convince anyone."
The whole group seemed to have held its breath while Harry spoke.
Zacharias said dismissively, "All Dumbledore told us last year was that Cedric Diggory got killed by You-Know-Who and that you brought Diggory's body back to Hogwarts. He didn't give us details, he didn't tell us exactly how Diggory got murdered, I think we'd all like to know —"
"If you've come to hear exactly what it looks like when Voldemort murders someone I can't help you," Harry said. He did not take his eyes from Zacharias Smith's aggressive face "I don't want to talk about Cedric Diggory, all right? So if that's what you're here for, you might as well clear out." He cast an angry look in Hermione's direction. He stood and waited for some of them to clear out of the pub.
But none of them left their seats, not even Zacharias Smith, though he continued to gaze intently at Harry.
"So," said Hermione, her voice quiet again. "So . . . like I was saying . . . if you want to learn some defense, then we need to work out how we're going to do it, how often we're going to meet, and where we're going to —"
"Is it true," interrupted the girl with the long plait down her back, looking at Harry, "that you can produce a Patronus?"
There was a murmur of interest around the group at this.
"Yeah," said Harry slightly defensively.
"A corporeal Patronus?"
"Er — you don't know Madam Bones, do you?" he asked.
The girl smiled. "She's my auntie," she said. "I'm Susan Bones. She told me about your hearing. So — is it really true? You make a stag Patronus?"
"Yes," said Harry.
"Blimey, Harry!" said Lee, looking deeply impressed. "I never knew that!"
"Mum told Ron not to spread it around," said Fred, grinning at Harry. "She said you got enough attention as it was."
Hermione smiled at how embarrassed Harry looked, not out of spite, but because he was finally opening up.
"She's not wrong," mumbled Harry and a couple of people laughed. The veiled witch sitting alone shifted very slightly in her seat.
"And did you kill a basilisk with that sword in Dumbledore's office?" demanded Terry Boot.
"That's what one of the portraits on the wall told me when I was in there last year. . . ."
"Er — yeah, I did, yeah," said Harry. Justin Finch-Fletchley whistled, the Creevey brothers exchanged awestruck looks, and Lavender Brown said "wow" softly.
"And in our first year," said Neville to the group at large, "he saved that Sorcerous Stone —"
"Sorcerer's," corrected Hermione.
"Yes, that, from You-Know-Who," finished Neville. Hannah Abbott's eyes were as round as Galleons.
"And that's not to mention," said Cho,"all the tasks he had to get through in the Triwizard Tournament last year — getting past dragons and merpeople and acromantulas and things. . . ."
There was a murmur of impressed agreement around the table.
"Look," he said and everyone fell silent at once, "I . . . I don't want to sound like I'm trying to be modest or anything, but . . . I had a lot of help with all that stuff. . . ."
"Not with the dragon, you didn't," said Michael Corner at once. "That was a seriously cool bit of flying. . . ."
"Yeah, well —" said Harry, feeling it would be churlish to disagree.
"And nobody helped you get rid of those dementors this summer," said Susan Bones.
"No," said Harry, "no, okay, I know I did bits of it without help, but the point I'm trying to make is —"
"Are you trying to weasel out of showing us any of this stuff?" said Zacharias Smith.
"Here's an idea," said Ron loudly, before Harry could speak, "why don't you shut your mouth?"
Zacharias flushed. "Well, we've all turned up to learn from him, and now he's telling us he can't really do any of it," he said.
"That's not what he said," snarled Fred Weasley.
"Would you like us to clean out your ears for you?" inquired George, pulling a long and lethal-looking metal instrument from inside one of the Zonko's bags.
"Or any part of your body, really, we're not fussy where we stick this," said Fred.
"Yes, well," said Hermione hastily, "moving on . . . the point is, are we agreed we want to take lessons from Harry?"
There was a murmur of general agreement from the group.
"Okay so if you wish to join please come up here and sign your name in this book. I will also hand you a galleon. Don't lose these as they will tell you when the next meeting is. They will heat up when a message is sent through."
One by one everyone in the pub walked up to the book, signed their names, and received a galleon. Everyone in the pub broke out into excited conversations and none of them could hear Hermione as she tried to get their attention.
"Hem, hem," said Ginny in such a good imitation of Professor Umbridge that several people looked around in alarm and then laughed. "Weren't we trying to decide how often we're going to meet and get Defense lessons?"
"Yes," said Hermione at once, "yes, we were, you're right. . . ."
"Well, once a week sounds cool," said Lee Jordan.
"As long as —" began Angelina.
"Yes, yes, we know about the Quidditch," said Hermione in a tense voice. "Well, the other thing to decide is where we're going to meet. . . ."
This was rather more difficult; the whole group fell silent.
"Library?" suggested Katie Bell after a few moments.
"I can't see Madam Pince being too chuffed with us doing jinxes in the library," said Harry.
"Maybe an unused classroom?" said Dean.
"Yeah," said Ron, "McGonagall might let us have her's, Mulligan did when Harry was practicing for the Triwizard. . . ."
But Hermione was pretty certain that McGonagall would not be as accommodating as Bella was.
"Right, well, we'll try to find somewhere," said Hermione. "We'll send a message round to everybody when we've got a time and a place for the first meeting."
Everyone began to file out of the pub. Once the four of them began to walk back to the castle, Hermione leaned over to Harry and whispered to him.
"Harry can I borrow your cloak?"
He looked at her confused before answering her back,"Sure let me grab it out of my bag."
Harry handed Hermione the cloak after making sure that Ginny and Ron weren't looking.
"Stay safe okay?"
"Of course Harry."
"Can I ask what you're doing with the cloak?"
"Meeting a friend."
"Who? Do I know them?"
"I can't tell you that Harry, but I won't be in any danger."
He looked at her skeptically, but nodded his head in acceptance before turning back to Ron and Ginny as they started to talk about quidditch. Hermione split off from the group after lying about leaving her quill in the Hog's Head. She walked through the snow towards a looming worn down house. Her hand stuffed deep in her pocket was gently caressing a letter. She stopped in front of the door and pulled her hand out of her pocket. She paused for a second, but heard loud footsteps pacing so she quickly threw off the cloak and opened the door.
Hermione stepped into the house and was immediately pulled into a tight embrace. Hermione let out a squeak of surprise before melting into the embrace.
"I missed you,"muttered Hermione into Bella's chest.
"I missed you too my lioness,"said Bella, a huge grin lighting up her face as she leaned down to kiss Hermione. They kissed until they needed to separate for air. Once they caught their breath Bella's tone quickly switched to a concerned one. "How's your hand?" she asked, taking a hold of Hermione's left hand.
"It's fine. It doesn't hurt anymore. But the howler the other day caused Umbridge to run out of the hall screa-Bella, you're hiding something."
"No-"
"Don't try to deny it, I know that look on your face."
Bella let out a sigh before answering Hermione.
"It's nothing."
"It's clearly not 'nothing' if I can tell it's bothering you."
Bella let go of Hermione's hand and sat down on the dusty couch.
"I can't tell you any specifics, but tensions are getting higher and my position is getting dangerous," Bella said resting her forehead in her hand looking stressed and exhausted.
"Is there anything I can do to help?"
"I can't put you in danger," said Bella looking into Hermione's eyes.
"Bella, I'm friends with Harry Potter. I'm always in danger," said Hermione exasperated.
"I know, but I don't want to put you into more danger. Can we just drop the subject?" When Bella finished speaking she ran her hand through her hair.
"Fine, but first please tell me that you are safe and that I won't lose you."
"You know that I can't make any promises that I can't keep."
Hermione let out a sigh as she sat down next to Bella and leaned her head on her shoulder. Bella brought her arms around Hermione and pulled her into an embrace. The two of them sat quietly as a heavy silence settled around them. The weight of what could happen with the rising tensions catching up to both of them. Bellatrix was first to break the silence.
"Hermione I can make you one promise that I will do everything I can to come back safe to you."
Hermione nestled her head deeper into Bella's shoulder and mumbled,"Okay."
The two of them stayed curled up together on the dusty couch until Hermione had to leave to get back to the castle. Hermione sat up and tried to stand up, but Bella's strong arms pulled her back down to cuddle more.
"Bella I have to get back now," said Hermione smiling at her antics.
"I don't want you to go though," pouted Bella.
"I don't want to go either, but I'd rather not get detention."
"Just stay with me, you don't need to go back."
"Bella I can't. I need to get back."
Bella pouted silently, but let Hermione get up.
Bella stood up and tried to stall Hermione for as long as she could again until Hermione put her foot down and told Bella to stop distracting her. Hermione and Bella shared one more kiss before stalling for a little as neither of them wanted to say goodbye.
"Hermione please try to stay out of trouble with Umbridge. It's too risky for me to send another howler to her since she is no doubt trying to trace that letter as it is."
"I'll try my best, but I don't know if I'll be able too."
"All that I ask is that you try."
"I can do that."
Both of them stood in silence for a couple of minutes neither wanting to say bye but Hermione realized that she needed to get back to the castle.
"I have to go now, Bella. I'll miss you."
"I know. I'll miss you too."
Bella leaned down to peck Hermione on the lips before Hermione walked over to exit sadly looking back over her shoulder at Bella as she stepped out of the building. Hermione threw the invisibility cloak over her and began to walk back to the castle. Hermione began to sprint back to the castle once she realized how late it was. She ran grinning the whole way back to her dorm.